Don't Let Me Be Lonely
by HepburnJunkie22
Summary: Angst seems to be what I'm all about these days. Just a little something that popped into my head...I guess it can be considered AU. Sharon/Brenda


_**Angst seemes to be my middle name these days and when I heard the song that inspired this piece I couldn't help the scenario that jumped into my mind. I hope you guys enjoy and always I'm only playing, I do not own the characters or the shows, but I wish I did ;)**_

_"I need a saving grace, a hiding place, I don't have forever or time to waste. So don't let me be lonely..."_

_Song: "Don't Let Me Be Lonely" by The Band Perry_

* * *

It was quiet…too quiet in the building that night. Not that Brenda was surprised, most of the people who worked within it had gone home hours ago; her desk lamp the last one still lit. She was staring sullenly out of her office window, losing her self in the Los Angeles skyline dotted with random points of light. She had been sitting there for a while…the papers that her secretary handed her still clutched in her right hand as it laid lifelessly on her crossed legs.

More often then not these days she found her in this exact position, lost in thoughts that never seemed to leave her alone. A lot of things had changed in the last year and it seemed that Brenda was just beginning to realize what it all entailed. From her career change to her love life, it was a never-ending circle of change and she didn't know how to deal with it. She felt lost, as if her tires were spinning while she sat stuck in the mud, the harder she gunned it the stickier the situation became.

She tipped her head back against the headrest of her office chair, her blonde curls bunched uncomfortably at the back of her neck. Sighing softly, she snatched the glasses off the bridge of her nose and tossed them carelessly onto her desk. She blinked her eyes slowly as they focused, gazing at the mountains of paperwork that sat mocking her. She had decided to stay late and finish them, not as if there was anything for her to go home to except an empty and quiet apartment. At least here she could keep her self busy, keep her mind off her many mistakes she had made that never seemed to give her peace.

The desolate apartment she seemed to call home still had moving boxes that lined the hallway even after a year. She couldn't find the energy to unpack because that would mean having to face her 'demons,' and that wasn't something she was quite prepared to do yet…she would eventually, but not yet. So whenever she needed something specific she would search for it, carefully digging through the remnants of her past, careful not to disturb the sleeping memories.

After her Mama died Brenda's world seemed to spiral out of control at an alarming rate, caught in a free fall she was powerless to stop. When she said goodbye to her team she had was saying goodbye to her family, a piece of her heart, as well. She knew they were in good hands, even if they didn't understand at first, but Sharon was good for them and they would be good for her as well.

When she started her job at the District Attorney's office, the blonde had been pacified for a while. It wasn't quite the pace she was used to but it did have its merits, steady working hours that allowed her time to herself and to be with her husband. It was nice to be working with a few familiar faces and she enjoyed seeing the outcomes of what she had done so well all those years. Then things started change again, but this time they were out of her control and most certainly not on her terms.

Tensions between her and Fritz began to rise, she was too emotionally drained to handle it. He had been her rock and staunch supporter through everything but she couldn't help but feel restless. A cliché as it was to say, she loved Fritz but didn't seem to be _in _love with him anymore, he was there in a supportive capacity and that was all. It was a sad realization that Brenda came to, she was about to fail yet another marriage. _Oh how her Mama would be so disappointed._

No family photos or art pieces adorned her walls; there were no splashes of color or signs of life in the small space, and nothing that would suggest someone actually lived there. Things in the kitchen were sparse, a few plates and bowls here with utensils thrown in the mix the occasional coffee cup completing the picture. The walls were the same bland beige from when she moved in, the solitary piece of furniture besides her bed was an overpowering leather sofa.

When Fritz left the only thing she fought him for had been the couch, he hadn't liked the piece to begin with but she had a special bond with it. It was always there when she came home late, or technically early, from a case with a welcoming sort of aura about it. On the rare nights that she returned to her 'home,' she would spend the night on the couch rather than her bed, she couldn't imagine sleeping in there alone...not after everything that had happened.

She would curl up in her favorite pj bottoms and tank talk while she watched the old monochromatic movies she loved so, drowning out the rest of the world until she fell into a restless sleep. Truth be told she hadn't slept well in a while…so why waste time trying to sleep when she knew it wouldn't be coming if she could be doing something useful?

The paperwork on her desk came slowly into focus as she came away from her daydream. Brenda placed her glasses gently back on the bridge of her nose and slowly rose from her chair, her joints creaking in protest. She pulled her brown cardigan tighter around her shoulders the chill in the air causing her to shiver. She gathered hers hair off the back of her neck into a messy bun as she walked towards the window, content to lean against the icy glass. She watched the people below on the busy street, rushing to be somewhere on this Friday night, people and places to see.

She gently massaged the tension from her shoulders desperately trying to combat a headache that she knew was already on its way. She could here the leisurely staccato of heels farther down the hallway outside her office; it seemed that she wasn't the only one left after all. Her thoughts were immediately drawn to Sharon; she didn't let herself think about the brunette because the memories were honestly too painful, red hot and sensitive to the touch.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she readjusted her position against the window, arms folded across her chest, hugging her frame tightly. She could see the woman's face clearly in her mind; glassy green eyes piercing in nature seemed to grow soft as they looked at her from behind her glasses. The normally impeccable hair tossed about her shoulders in messy waves, her fingers itching to wrap themselves in the silk. Brenda shook her head softly trying to rid it of the image her mind was so good at creating; it had taken her a few months but she felt that she was making progress.

She stretched her arm out, reaching for the cup of tea just at the corner of her desk and a grimace rolled across her features when she realized that the liquid had long gone cold. She discarded the cup once again wondering if maybe there would still be some coffee in the break room…and then she remembered how Sharon used to gently admonish her for drinking coffee so late in the evening, giving her tea instead.

_It will help you relax, can't have you up all night._

Just like that the lump returned with a vengeance, a vice like grip on Brenda's airway and her heart, as she once again drew the cardigan tighter around her. The thing between her and Sharon had happened so naturally that neither of them seemed to realize, they just gravitated towards one another. Brenda would call to check up on Rusty, she had gotten along really well with the surly teenager, and Sharon would occasionally call her to fill her in on the goings on of her former team. Weekly phone calls soon turned into weekly dinners at the bar not far from Parker Center, and then eventually they moved to a more intimate location, Sharon's apartment.

Emotions and desires flared, innocent gestures became intimate touches, as the two women seemed to dance around their true feelings. They both had some inkling of what was going on, but chose to ignore the obvious and lets tempers build, until one night it was too much for them to handle.

Two months ago…

* * *

_Sharon stood on the side of her bar closest to the sink, her green eyes locked onto those of a deep brown, unflinching in her gaze. To her credit, Brenda seemed to be uncomfortable under he brunette's stare and fidgeted on the bar stool slightly. She wasn't sure what the other woman wanted to hear, they had been beating around the bush long enough, but she had no idea what to say. _

_ Sharon sighed, the gesture seemed out of annoyance, and leaned over the counter; her elbows resting upon it and her chin in her hands._

_ "What exactly are we doing here Brenda?"_

_ The blonde froze, not sure how to respond._

_ That didn't seem to deter the older woman as she barreled through with what she wanted to say._

_ "I need to know what you want…or maybe it is what you're capable of giving."_

_ Brenda looked down to her hands clasped in her lap, white in the intensity of which they held each other. Her mind was racing, searching for something to say, anything to say that would save her from this moment that she was destined to relive over and over again. She knew that this was the beginning of the end, this was the way that all of her relationships seemed to dissolve._

_ The really sad part was that she actually wanted this thing, what ever it was, to work with Sharon, wanted it so badly that she could feel her heart breaking at the thought that she was going to lose it._

_ The smack of Sharon's hands against the granite counter top startled Brenda from her thoughts. The brunette's eyes were now narrowed, her mouth set in a firm line as she stared at the blonde. Brenda tugged absent-mindedly at the end of her braid that lay over her shoulder, twisting the golden strands softly in her fingers, hoping that the words would find their way out of her mouth. She watched as the older woman straightened her back slowly, crossing her arms defensively across her chest, waiting still._

_ Brenda opened and closed her mouth a few times, floundering miserably to form some sort of coherent sentence, anything to appease the irritated woman in front of her…to her horror nothing seemed to come. She looked back down to her hands in her lap, ashamed and broken._

_ Sharon snorted inelegantly, "I guess I have my answer then."_

_ Brenda was beginning to stray from the conversation now, desperately trying to formulate a plan to slip from the apartment as soon as possible. The room was becoming hot and humid; she could feel her throat close and the wetness of und\shed tears on her lashes. She could hear the pounding of her heart, the rush of blood as it was pushed mercilessly through her veins._

_ The older woman began to speak again, her tone clip and precise._

_ "I'm not quite sure what I expected, I mean I should have known…had some sort of an intuition of what would happen." _

_ Brenda froze at her words, pain lacing its way through her body, she needed to get out of there and fast. She could hear her breath coming quicker and her head became lighter, she was dizzy from all this emotion. She knew in all reality that the only reason Sharon was saying such cruel things because she was hurt too…although that didn't make her accusations hurt any less._

_ "What was I exactly," Sharon continued, "A conquest? Another notch on your belt?"_

_ Brenda's eyes snapped up to meet the luminous green orbs across from her one last time. The other woman was standing almost at parade rest, which looked ridiculous while she was dressed in a too big LAPD sweatshirt. Although she was trying to convey an air of calm she was anything but, her back was too rigid, her arms too strained._

_ The blonde struggled to answer the absurd question but was succinctly cut off._

_ "Actually," the Captain made a halting motion with her hand, "I'm not even sure I want to know the answer to that."_

_ Brenda's mouth closed gently and she slowly drew her bottom lip under her teeth, nerves seeming to get the better of her. How could she possibly explain to Sharon what she was feeling? That she did want to be with her and yes she did care for her deeply…but that she wasn't exactly sure if she was worthy of such a woman?_

_ "It wasn't like that at all," the blonde whispered, "You mean…you me a lot to me Sharon."_

_ But that seemed to be all that Brenda could get out before her emotions overcame her. She needed to get out of there and she needed to do it now, before she broke down in front of Sharon._

_ "I have to…"she mumbled, "I have to go…'scuse me." _

_ Without a backward glance, she slipped off the bar stool and made her way quickly to the front of the condo. She slipped her feet into her pumps located to the right of the door and fumbled with the locks, all too aware that Sharon hadn't bothered to follow her or even plead with her to sty. Brenda managed to hold off her tears until she was safely ensconced in the elevator; there she let them fall unchecked._

* * *

The blonde sighed heavily as she let her arms fall listlessly to her sides, grappling with a sensation she was becoming well acquainted with…guilt. Now this was an emotion had a few run-ins with over her lifetime, but it had never left a lasting impression on her life or her character. In the last year or so it had become her constant companion.

She felt guilt over leaving Sharon that way in her kitchen, probably confused and hurt. She felt guilty for refusing to answer her text messages and phone call, whether personal or professional. She felt guilt for not checking on Rusty and how he was coping with his changed status or even just school. Then there was guilt from the many things she had done to get her way over the years, things she had done that weren't so pleasant or could even be considered on some levels illegal.

She kept telling herself that she had done what needed to be done and that a lot more good had come from her less than desirable decisions than bad, but she knew that this was her penance; everything was beginning to catch up with her. Every mistake she had made, every risk she had taken, every hunch that she had followed was all coming to a head and she wasn't sure if she was ready to handle the aftermath.

She absentmindedly rubbed her palms over her black slacks, smoothing the imaginary wrinkles and straightening the seams. She turned her body slightly, intending to go searching for that cup of coffee when something, no someone, in her doorway caught her attention. She stilled, her limbs feeling heavy and unable to move, and stared wordlessly at the occupant who was leant against the doorframe of her office.

Sharon's hip was cocked against the door, arms crossed over her chest making her black blazer bunch across her hips and dark grey slacks that gave way to black pumps. Brenda noticed with a sense of nostalgia that the Brunette's hair was up and pulled away from her face, not as neat as it normally was, but as if she had pulled it up in a hurry. Her eyes were glued to the Blonde in front of her, the green luminescent in the dim room.

Brenda tried to recover and not let on to the other woman just how much she had startled her. She cleared her throat softly and pasted on an unconvincing smile as she faced Sharon fully.

"Capt'n Raydor," she greeted, "What can I do for you?"

The green irises seemed to narrow slightly and she pushed herself away from the door, treading silently across the carpet to stand in front of the desk. She leaned forward, grasping the back of one of the visitors' chairs in her hands stiffly. The younger woman was starting to become uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

"Well," the husky voice filled the room, "I was just wondering why you haven't returned any type of correspondence I've tried to set up with you?"

Brenda could feel herself go pale, and in an effort not to faint or do something as equally embarrassing in front of the Captain, she slid ungracefully back into her chair. Adjusting her glasses, she answered as honestly as she could muster.

"I've been extremely busy Capt'n…"

Sharon cut her off, "Bullshit."

The younger woman startled at the other woman's use of the curse, not that she had never cursed in front of Brenda, but it sounded so harsh falling from those soft lips. She licked her lips before forming a coherent answer to the statement.

"No its not bullshit Capt'n," the Blonde sighed heavily, "A lot of things have been happenin' to me on a personal and professional level."

Sharon pursed her lips in irritation, flinging herself into the visitor chair in front of her. Her movements were jerky and clipped; as was her tone…Brenda knew she was thoroughly annoyed.

"Oh really?" the Brunette questioned.

"Yes Really," the younger woman snapped back.

"Hmmm," Sharon hummed, "That is unfortunate Chief."

Brenda flinched at her former title, "Don't call me that."

The older woman cocked her head to the side slightly, goading Brenda, pushing her to say what was really on her mind. She had an uncanny way of knowing when something was bothering the Blonde and now was one of those times that she wished that Sharon didn't know her as well as she did.

Brenda huffed, "Is there somethin' you needed?"

The greens eyes softened just a fraction, a long absent warmth seeming to seep into them while regarding the Blonde.

"Brenda," Sharon implored, "why haven't you returned my phone calls or my text messages?"

She snorted, "Hell you could have even returned my emails to let me know that you were ok!"

"I was…" the older woman sniffed, "I was worried."

Brenda could feel the guilt rising within her once more, it was a suffocating emotion and she knew that it would only get worse. She wanted to apologize to Sharon for not being what she deserved and leaving her all alone.

"Look Capt'n…"

"Sharon!" the brunette snapped, "My name is Sharon and seeing that I'm here in a personal not professional capacity, I'd appreciate it if you used my name instead of title."

"Personal?" Brenda questioned.

Sharon looked nervously at her lap, all the anger and confident bravado that seemed to come with her Captain Raydor façade, seemed to fade. Now all Brenda could see was the woman she could openly admit now, that she loved, her Sharon sitting in the chair in front of her desk. She looked so small and lost, looking just as miserable as her counterpart.

She started talking again, "I just want to know why you left, Brenda."

The Blonde rubbed the bridge of her nose, seeing Sharon glance at her in concern out of her peripheral vision. It was time to just lay it all out on the table, the other woman at least deserved that and then hopefully they could move on. Merely being in Sharon's presence was causing the younger woman to physically ache, she needed to get this over with.

When Brenda brought her hand away from the bridge of her nose she was startled to see that the brunette was now perched on the corner of the desk closest to her, green eyes searching her own brown ones. Sharon reached out cautiously, her left hand coming to rest on Brenda's shoulder, attempting to massage away the physical ache as well as the emotional.

"Just tell me," she entreated.

The former Deputy Chief shrugged the hand off of her shoulder as she quickly rose from her chair, she needed distance in order to voice her thoughts.

"I guess I'm not quite sure why you'd want me," she confessed, "I mean why me?"

Sharon looked at her from her perch dumbfounded and Brenda took the opportunity to continue on without being interrupted.

"It scares me, I'm no where near worthy of anyone like you," she paused, "I've never been good with relationships, they always end 'cause of me."

"Brenda…" the older woman tried to interrupt.

"Please just let me say what I have to say," She begged.

She took another deep breath, "I do care for you, deeply Sharon…I love you and I'm just scared that I'm too damaged to be what you need me to be."

Brenda could feel the tears running down her cheeks and could slowly feel her grip on her emotions beginning to slip away. He clenched her fists and closed her eyes against the tears; she wasn't going to burden Sharon with this.

Suddenly she felt two strong yet gentle hands grip her cheeks, forcing her to look into the green eyes she'd been admiring. Sharon's own eyes were wet with unshed tears, looking incredibly beautiful behind the lenses of her glasses. She licked her lips slowly and Brenda's gaze couldn't help but be drawn to them, remembering just what they tasted like. The Brunette cleared her throat softly, trying to dislocate the lump of emotions that had formed.

"You love me?" she questioned tearfully.

All the blonde could do was nod carefully, unaware of what Sharon was going to do. It was as if the whole room had slowed, every move the pair made was precise and measured. Brenda felt the other woman draw her gently closer to her own body, their hips and stomachs aligning perfectly, her breath catching in he throat at the sensation.

The older woman gently tangled her hair in Brenda's bun at the back of her neck, encouraging her to bring her face closer, eyes intently staring at her companion's lips. They were so close that they were sharing the same air, giving it a sweet and heady quality that neither seemed ready to let go of. Just as their lips were about to brush, only a millimeter of two separating them, Sharon whispered one sentence that made Brenda believe that maybe this _could_ work…

"I love you too."


End file.
